


Grave

by anonymous_dragon



Series: Month of Halloween [13]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Daemons, Attempt at Tragedy, Canonical Character Death, Daemons, I Tried, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 03:17:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2452763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymous_dragon/pseuds/anonymous_dragon





	Grave

It was like watching Jess burn on the ceiling, her chipmunk daemon finally turning to gold dust in a merciful act as Dean dragged him from the fiery room. If Sam thought about it, he could still feel the heat, the hot drip of blood against his forehead, the burning that lit in his lungs from inhaling the smoke, like a kindred fire that sprung up inside of him. Natasja nipping at his sleeve, trying to yank him from the bed, Dean aiding her, and Sam’s own screaming. There was no saving Jess, Sam knew. This was much like that.

Except it was much worse.

The wounds alone were horrible as the hellhounds tore into Dean like he was made of soft butter. Blood was everywhere; there was no inch of Dean or Kyra left unscathed. Bile turned in Sam’s stomach as he watched, helpless, just as before, but this was his brother, which made it that much worse. With each heartbeat, Dean thudded closer and closer to Death’s door, with the gates of Hell just behind.

But the looks of agony clear on Dean and Kyra’s faces made both Sam and Natasja wish for their swift deaths, because there was no saving Dean and Kyra from the hellhounds, and they knew it. Even after Kyra turned from black bear to a small mound of gold dust, the hellhounds continued to rip and shred. Sam and Natasja were useless as they stood, frozen, separated from Dean by Lilith and her sadistic grin.

How Sam and Natasja actually escaped from Lilith, neither could really remember. Lilith must have smoked out at some point, and Ruby had disappeared, leaving Sam and Natasja with Dean’s cooling body and a pile of gold dust.

Neither hunter nor lioness daemon left the room that night, and neither slept. Curled up together on the floor, they cried over their lost family.

“We’ve got to bring them back,” Sam eventually managed to say, voice hoarse and still not able to see straight. Natasja butted her head softly against Sam’s chin.

“We can’t, Sam,” she whispered. Sam couldn’t stare at the cold and dead body of his brother any longer; he turned his face and buried it in Natasja’s golden fur. The lioness lay there, wrapping her tail around Sam’s back. “You know we can’t.”

“Then we’ll find Lilith. Make her pay,” Sam murmured into Natasja’s fur. She shook her head.

“Sam, that won’t bring him back. For all we know, that’ll just get you killed.”

“Maybe it would be better that way,” Sam breathed a dying sob, a broken sigh releasing from his chest. Natasja nipped him, harder than she usually did.

“Winchester, you did not just say that. Not after all that Dean and Kyra just sacrificed for you,” the lioness growled. “There will be no suicide missions; there will be no demon deals, no finding Lilith, no running down to Hell and back. Understand?” Sam nodded numbly into his daemon’s flank. The anger in the lioness dissipated, and she nuzzled his cheek. “Sam, I can feel it, too. But we can’t turn Dean’s death into a call for battle. He wouldn’t want that.”

“But he’d do the same for me.”

“And you’d give him nine hells about it.”

Sam didn’t admit that Natasja was right, but they both knew the truth. Silence enveloped hunter and daemon, a silence that lasted through the night and until morning. They stood vigil over Dean’s body until the next day, when they gathered Kyra’s gold remains and Dean’s corpse up. Not able to stand the thought of burning their family, Sam and Natasja buried the hunter and his daemon in a pine box in a field they once burned down with fireworks.

Kneeling on the just-covered grave, Sam closed his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Dean,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.” Sam curled in on himself, a bit of a strange sight given his height, but Natasja approached and wrapped herself around him, like how she used to before she and Kyra settled into their matured forms, back when they shifted back and forth between shapes. Natasja settled around Sam like he was still small, because that’s what Natasja and Kyra did; by night, in empty motel rooms with only the sound of breathing and broken heat, the two daemons would take the forms of larger animals and secure their little hunters.

Sam sighed, pushing back into Natasja. “I’m sorry.”


End file.
